


bend

by Bugggghead



Series: Bughead Drabbles & One Shots [27]
Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Dom Jughead Jones, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Most of the time, One Shot, Post 3.01, Post Episode Fic, Smut, Sub Betty Cooper, betty needs to give up control sometimes, betty takes direction well, more like a missing moment?, smutshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bugggghead/pseuds/Bugggghead
Summary: It was another one of those nights, one that capped off a day that had been too long, too exhausting, and with minimal progress made on Archie’s case. The pretense of perfection fell away as her jacket slipped off, the cardigan soon to follow and when his hands found her skin, it was his turn to take over.He knew she needed this, needed him, and the direction he provided when she was too overwhelmed with everything else. So he gave it to her, in spades, every chance he got.





	bend

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @tory-b for betaing this for me! Also thanks to @jandjsalmon, @theheavycrown, and @paperlesscrown for playing the devil on my shoulder and encouraging me to write this. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> WARNING: This is very light on plot, if smut isn't your thing, please don't read!

*  
  


One perk afforded over the last few months of Alice Cooper's inevitable descent into The Farm inspired insanity was that Betty could come and go at home more freely. With minimal oversight, she found herself in his bed more often than not. On nights Alice was holed up with Polly and the twins at the elusive farm on the outskirts of town, he wound up between the pastel sheets of her childhood bed. But no matter which mattress they eventually laid down on, it was nearly always together. And when they were alone, their moans echoed off the walls and the squeaking springs of the mattress were of no consequence.

 

Summer was nearly over, Archie’s trial looming in the near future and the implications that came with it growing heavier each day. Betty had been feeling the pressure, though no one would ever know. Her outward appearance was as cool, calm, and collected as it had always been; not a hair out of place in her perfectly polished ponytail. But at night, when they were alone, she’d relinquish her relentless need for control and bend to his wishes, under his touch, melting from the well-earned praise.

 

It was another one of those nights, one that capped off a day that had been too long, too exhausting, and with minimal progress made on Archie’s case. The pretense of perfection fell away as her jacket slipped off, the cardigan soon to follow and when his hands found her skin, it was his turn to take over.

 

He knew she needed this, needed him, and the direction he provided when she was too overwhelmed with everything else. So he gave it to her, in spades, every chance he got.

 

“Let me,” he whispered, his hands trailing across her collarbones and nudging off the soft sweater, his lips trailing kisses along her jaw. “Good girl,” he mumbled as her arms fell to slide it off the rest of the way. Her approval came in the form of hum that vibrated against his lips, egging him on.

 

“Get on the bed.” And she did, backing up slowly as she popped the button on her jeans and pushed them down over her hips. When her knees met the mattress and she sat down slowly, he watched the way she trapped her lip between her teeth and tugged off her jeans. Wearing nothing more than her simple pink set of matching underwear, she looked like she didn’t belong against the worn gray sheets. But looks were deceiving because, despite the splash of pretty pastel laid across the threadbare surface, the bed had become as much hers as his own.

 

As she fell onto the bed, she stayed silent, her gaze trained on his, waiting expectantly for his next move. His belt opened with a metallic clank, his fingers finding the button, and he let his jeans drop, pooling around his ankles before he broke their gaze. In a haste, he unlaced his boots and stepped out of them, leaving his jeans on top of the shoes as he climbed onto the bed in his boxers and a white tank top.

 

He climbed his way up, covering her in seconds and capturing her lips. She groaned and he felt her nails skim his scalp, her fingers carding through his locks and dislodging the beanie. Pulling back, he sat up and captured her hands, her delicate wrists trapped in his grasp. “Uh-uh,” he tutted, shaking his head slightly as his lips curled into a smile. “Did I tell you to touch me, yet?”

 

Looking up at him, she shook her head and her teeth sunk father into her plush bottom lip, turning it white from the pressure.

 

“Hands above your head,” he whispered, low, firm.

 

She obeyed, bringing both arms up and crossing her wrists. It was a familiar sight, her golden tresses splayed across his pillow, her pale wrists pinned above her head, and her chest rising and falling with a gentle pink stain creeping over the creamy flesh. But the blush wasn’t one inspired by embarrassment, no, it was something _more_. A tell-tale sign of her need, the blood pumping through her body as she surrendered to him, laid limp beneath his hands, utterly at his mercy. She was ready. She was willing, and if the way her teeth pushed into her lip with such force was any indication, she was eager.

 

“What now, Jug?” she prompted, batting her lashes and breaking him from his reverie. No matter how many times he had seen it before, her lithe frame his for the taking, he was constantly in awe. Many nights of his younger years had been spent envisioning this very scene: him, her, his bed, her lips; but fantasy paled in comparison to the reality of the way her touch simmered against his skin. He hadn’t even realized how hard he was until she gently tilted her hips upward, pressing against him, the thin layers of cotton not nearly enough to subdue the heat radiating from her core.

 

“Stay just like this,” he mumbled against the shell of her ear, leaning down to kiss the column of her neck. His lips pressed downward, nipping at the top of her breast. “Don’t move,” he breathed, ghosting his lips over her pebbled nipple before pressing them to the underside of her breast. “Don’t touch,” he said, nudging her legs wider as his kisses trailed below her belly button, continuing their decent. “And don’t come until I tell you to,” he finished, trapping the lace edge of her pretty, pink panties between his teeth and dragging them down. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, tugging them off the rest of the way before finding his place again, situated between her legs, his face so close, his arms on either thigh. He blew out a breath against her clit and she twitched. He tsked at her and she stilled. “I said don’t move, Betts.” His voice was firm as he looked up at her. He was met with wide eyes and a slight nod of her head.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

A groan bubbled up from his chest. “That was your one warning. Understood?”

 

She nodded again and he dipped his head, blowing a breath across her glistening folds. She was growing wetter by the second, and he was glad she couldn’t see the wicked grin he felt twisting at the edges of his lips.

 

“Good girl,” he praised, his lips ghosting over the flesh of her inner thigh. Light presses of his lips lead him to her core, up, over, then to the other side. He loved teasing her, knowing the firm press of his pout against her soft skin sent shivers up her spine. But she laid perfectly still, the only movement coming from her chest as she heaved in breaths.

 

One final kiss was placed just above her clit, a gentle touch that earned him a moan. She was still, perfectly so, even as his tongue slid down her slit before coming back up, circling the numb and then repeating. She was slick, ready for him and he felt his cock twitch at the sweet tang of her taste on his tongue.

 

He continued to tease, kissing, lightly licking, and pressing his palms to her thighs to hold her in place. The sound of her pants, slowly gaining traction. When he sealed his lips over her clit, her hips twisted, ever so slightly, but enough for him to pull back again. As her whine washed over him, he looked up at her again.

 

The heat in her eyes said she wasn’t sorry. And so their game continued. Sometimes she would push, playing into his hand, obeying without question and then breaking a rule. It was never brash, never bold, just a slight misstep that at first, he thought was accidental. But the calculated way it happened, the lustful hue of her irises as she did it, they told him it was racked with intent.

 

Even if he had the guise of control, on nights when they played, she held all the cards.

 

“Say the word.” The curt tone, the short instructions, they meant he wanted to test her. How far did she want to go tonight?

 

“No,” the singular syllable dripped from her lips in slow motion, each letter taking on a life of its own. He knew what she wouldn’t say. He didn’t want her to, and she wasn’t ready. So he continued.

 

“You broke the rules, baby.” His voice was low, full of need, and he knew she could tell, the firm tone wavering just a bit.

 

As he crawled back over her, he braced her hips with his knees and tugged off his tank top, tossing it to the side. “Take that off,” he directed, and she complied, leaning up and unclasping her bra before pulling the straps down and off. It joined the growing pile of discarded clothes and left her completely bare beneath him.

 

When she leaned back against the pillows again, she made a show of stretching her arms back over her head as she challenged, “And what are you going to do about it, Juggie?”

 

With her wrists crossed above her, he easily gripped them both in one hand, pressing them into the pillow as her back arched. “I think you need to be punished,” he growled against her ear, trapping her lobe between his teeth and biting into the flesh. She let out a sharp hiss and his lips formed a smile against her neck. He was painfully hard, pressing his hips into her hers, feeling her seep through his boxers as she ground up against him. “Fuck,” he breathed.

 

He released her wrists, leaning back up on his knees, hovering over her as he took a moment to breathe. He wanted this to last, and the way she throbbed against him was making his head spin. If he had any hope of prolonging his control over the situation, he needed a bit of space.

 

But he didn’t want her to stop.

 

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his own hands tugging his boxers down just enough for him to spring free.

 

As her fingers slipped between her folds, they trailed down, then up, circling her clit then running down again. She was mimicking his movements and he groaned, his own hand now wrapped around his throbbing length.

 

“You look so beautiful, baby,” he coaxed, her fingers pressing in just a bit. When she sucked in a breath, he saw her pull them back out again. “No.” He stopped her with his free hand, wrapping it around her wrist and directing it down again. “Keep going.”

 

So she did, straightening two fingers and slipping them inside of herself. A soft moan slid between her lips as her fingers pressed in.

 

“Just like that.” She preened at his praise, arching her back and picking up the pace.

 

Slow, lazy strokes of his hand held his climax at bay. Just looking at her as she brought herself up was enough to make him come, but it was far too early for that. So he stroked, gripping himself lightly as he did to ease the ache her vision was inspiring.

 

“Faster,” he said after a few moments.

 

And she did.

 

Pressing, pulling, moaning as her fingers disappeared over and over again, coming out with a sheen he still tasted on his tongue. Her other arm came down from above her head as she palmed her breast. He watched the way she pinched her nipple, twisting just slightly as she moaned a little louder.

 

The way her fingers began to stumble, the smooth movements becoming choppy told him she was climbing toward her climax. He continued to stroke himself as she built her way up, pausing for only a moment as she closed her eyes, barely on the brink of ecstasy.

 

“Stop.” His voice boomed through the room, steady, sure, full of authority as she froze in place. Save for the heavy breaths she was sucking in, every limb was still. “You didn’t think I’d let you come that easy, did you?”

 

He slotted himself over her again, pressing his erection against her folds, sliding the tip over her throbbing clit but not where she wanted him most.

 

“Please,” she panted, bringing her wrists up above her again and crossing them in a silent invitation. He took it, clasping them again between a single hand.

 

His head dipped down as he captured her lips. His tongue pushed into her mouth, twisting and tangling before he nibbled as he pulled back. She barely had time to respond before his lips moved to her cheek, her jaw, up to her ear. “ _I_ want to be the one to make you come, baby. I want to feel you wrapped around me,” he growled, pulling his hips back and angling them down. His free hand positioned him, pressing the tip against her entrance before he continued. “I want to _feel_ you cum.” He thrust in and she gasped. “I want to hear you say my name,” he pulled back and pressed forward again. “I want to make you come so hard that you don’t know where you are, who you are, what you are,” he growled, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh at the base of her neck, sucking the skin into his mouth with a fervor.

 

His hips rocked in and out at a punishing rate. They’d made love. They’d had incredible sex. They’d done soft and sweet. But tonight wasn’t for that, tonight was for fast, for dirty, for coming together with such a force that they were both left shattered. And he wanted to get her there. He wanted her limp, her mind so numb from the pleasure it couldn’t run away with the what if’s of the real word. So he crashed his hips into hers, feeling her legs widen as he slid in and out with increasing intensity. He felt her walls flutter. He felt her wrists pull against his grip. So he tightened it, his mouth finding her nipple and sucking on it - hard. She cried out and arched her back as his teeth nipped the peak.

 

“Juggie, I’m- I’m,” she panted and he pulled back, leaning back up to swallow her moans. He was close too, so fucking close, overstimulated and on the verge himself.

 

“Not yet,” he huffed against her lips.

 

“I - I - I can’t -” she whined. “Let me touch, let me -” she begged, unable to form the words.

 

But he knew what she wanted and he released her wrists, racing toward his own climax, hoping to catch her. As soon as her fingers dug into his shoulder blades, and he drove his hips in again, the sting from her nails had him crashing over the edge as he felt her clench.

 

He hissed from the pressure, her walls pulling him in deeper as he released. With each twitch he spilled inside of her, giving her everything he had, everything he was, fully surrendering.

 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he chanted between kisses, lowering himself onto her as they both came down. He was still buried deep, still sealed inside of her when she whispered it back and her fingers carded through his hair.

 

After they had cleaned up, taken a shower, thrown on pajamas, and wrapped themselves up in each other’s arms again, he could have sworn she seemed a bit lighter, still floating on a cloud of endorphins and wholly preoccupied by his piercing gaze.

 

“Thank you,” she said after a long while, trailing her fingertips along his bicep. “Sometimes I just… need that. Sometimes it’s too much and I need you to-”

 

“I know,” he mumbled, pressing a firm kiss to her temple and tightening his arms around her waist. “I know, baby. I’ll be anything you need to me to be.”

 

“I love you, Juggie,” she said through a yawn. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

Lit only by the slivers of streetlight peeking through his blinds, he watched her slip into sleep, nearly boneless, wholly his, and right where she belonged. He meant what he’d said. He’d bend to her wishes or dominate her if needed, he’d always be whatever she needed him to be, whenever, wherever, forever.

 

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr @bugggghead!
> 
> Comments ALWAYS appreciated  
> (even incoherent ones, promise)


End file.
